CHAPTER IV
"The night was now pitmirk; the wind soughed amid the headstones and railings of the gentry (for we all must die), and the black corbies in the steeple-holes cackled and crawed in a fearsome manner."
MANSIE WAUGH.
Bill was early at the night-school. No other of his class had arrived,so he took the corner by the fire sacred to first-comers, and watchedthe gradual gathering of the school. Presently Master Arthur appeared,and close behind him came his friend. Mr. Bartram Lindsay looked moreattractive now than he had done in the garden. When standing, he wasan elegant though plain-looking young man, neat in his dress, and withan admirable figure. He was apt to stand very still and silent for alength of time, and had a habit of holding his chin up in the air,which led some people to say that he "held himself very high." Thiswas the opinion that Bill had formed, and he was rather alarmed byhearing Master Arthur pressing his friend to take his class instead ofthe more backward one, over which the gardener usually presided; andhe was proportionably relieved when Mr. Bartram steadily declined.
"To say the truth, Bartram," said the young gentleman, "I am muchobliged to you, for I am used to my own boys, and prefer them."
Then up came the schoolmaster.
"Mr. Lindsay going to take John's class? Thank you, Sir. I've put outthe books; if you want anything else, Sir, p'raps you'll mention it.When they have done reading, perhaps, Sir, you will kindly draft themoff for writing, and take the upper classes in arithmetic, if youdon't object, Sir."
Mr. Lindsay did not object.
"If you have a picture or two," he said. "Thank you. Know theirletters? All right. Different stages of progression. Very good. I'veno doubt we shall get on together."
"Between ourselves, Bartram," whispered Master Arthur into hisfriend's ear, "the class is composed of boys who ought to have been toschool, and haven't; or who have been, and are none the better for it.Some of them can what they call 'read in the Testament,' and all ofthem confound b and d when they meet with them. They are at one pointof general information--namely, they all know what you have just toldthem, and will none of them know it by next time. I call it therag-tag and bob-tail class. John says they are like forced tulips.They won't blossom simultaneously. He can't get them all to onestandard of reading."
Mr. Lindsay laughed and said--
"He had better read less, and try a little general oral instruction.Perhaps they don't remember because they can't understand;"--and theRector coming in at that moment, the business of the eveningcommenced.
Having afterwards to cross the school for something, Bill passed thenew teacher and his class, and came to the conclusion that they did"get on together," and very well too. The rag-tag and bob-tail shonethat night, and afterwards were loud in praises of the lesson. "It wasso clear," and "He was so patient." Indeed, patience was one greatsecret of Mr. Lindsay's teaching; he waited so long for an answer thathe generally got it. His pupils were obliged to exert themselves whenthere was no hope of being passed over, and everybody was waiting.Finally, Bill's share of the arithmetic lesson converted him to MasterArthur's friend. He _was_ a clever young gentleman, and a kind onetoo.
The lesson had been so interesting--the clever young gentleman,standing (without his eye-glass) by the blackboard, had been so strictand yet so entertaining, was so obviously competent, and so pleasantlykind, that Bill, who liked arithmetic, and (like all intelligentchildren) appreciated good teaching, had had no time to think of theYew-lane Ghost till the lesson was ended. It was not till the hymnbegan (they always ended the night-school with singing), then heremembered it. Then, while he was shouting with all his might BishopKen's glorious old lines--
"Keep me, oh keep me, King of kings,"
he caught Mr. Lindsay's eyes fixed on him, and back came the thoughtsof his terrible fright, with a little shame too at his own timidity.Which of us trusts as we should do in the "defence of the Most High?"
Bill lingered as he had done the last time, and went out with the"grown-ups." It had been raining, and the ground was wet and sludgy,though it was fair overhead. The wind was cold, too, and Mr. Lindsaybegan to cough so violently, that Bill felt rather ashamed of takinghim so far out of his way, through the damp chilly lane, and began towonder whether he could not summon up courage to go alone. The resultwas, that with some effort he said--
"Please, Mr. Lindsay, Sir, I think you won't like to come so far thiscold night. I'll try and manage, if you like."
Mr. Lindsay laid one hand on Bill's shoulder, and said quietly--
"No, thank you, my boy, we'll come with you, Thank you, all the same."
"Nevertheless, Bartram," said Master Arthur, "I wish you could keepthat cough of yours quiet--it will spoil everything. A boy was eatingpeppermints in the shade of his copy-book this very night. I did boxhis ears; but I wish I had seized the goodies, they might have keptyou quiet."
"Thank you," was the reply, "I abhor peppermint; but I have got somelozenges, if that will satisfy you. And when I smell ghosts, I cansmother myself in my pocket-handkerchief."
Master Arthur laughed boisterously.
"We shall smell one if brimstone will do it. I hope he won't sethimself on fire, or the scenic effect will be stronger than webargained for."
This was the beginning of a desultory conversation carried on atintervals between the two young gentlemen, of which, though Bill heardevery sentence, he couldn't understand one. He made one effort todiscover what Master Arthur was alluding to, but with no satisfactoryresult, as we shall see.
"Please, Master Arthur," he said desperately, "you don't thinkthere'll be two ghosts, do you, Sir?"
"I should say," said Master Arthur, so slowly and with such gravitythat Bill felt sure he was making fun of him, "I should say, Bill,that if a place is haunted at all there is no limit to the number ofghosts--fifty quite as likely as one. What do you say, Bartram?"
"Quite so," said Bartram.
Bill made no further attempts to understand the mystery. He listened,but only grew more and more bewildered at the dark hints he heard, andnever understood what it all meant until the end came; when (as is notuncommon) he wondered how he could have been so stupid, and why he hadnot seen it all from the very first.
They had now reached the turning-point, and as they passed into thedark lane, where the wind was shuddering and shivering among thetrees, Bill shuddered and shivered too, and felt very glad that theyoung gentlemen were with him, after all.
Mr. Lindsay pulled out his watch.
"Well?" said his friend.
"Ten minutes to nine."
Then they walked on in silence, Master Arthur with one arm through hisfriend's, and the one-legged donkey under the other; and Mr. Lindsaywith his hand on Bill's shoulder.
"I _should_ like a pipe!" said Master Arthur presently; "it's soabominably damp."
"What a fellow you are," said Mr. Lindsay. "Out of the question! Withthe wind setting down the lane too! you talk of my cough--which isbetter, by-the-bye."
"What a fellow _you_ are!" retorted the other. "Bartram, you are theoddest creature I know. What ever you take up, you do drive at so. NowI have hardly got a lark afloat before I'm sick of it. I wish you'dtell me two things--first, why are you so grave to-night? and,secondly, what made you take up our young friend's cause so warmly?"
"One answer will serve both questions," said Mr. Lindsay. "The truthis, old fellow, our young friend--[and Bill felt certain that the'young friend' was himself]--has a look of a little chap I was chumwith at school--Regy Gordon. I don't talk about it often, for I can'tvery well; but he was killed--think of it, man!--_killed_ by such apiece of bullying as this! When they found him, he was quite stiff andspeechless; he lived a few hours, but he only said two words--my name,and amen."
"Amen?" said Master Arthur, inquiringly.
"Well, you see when the surgeon said it was no go, they telegraphedfor his friends; but they were a long way off, and he was sinkingrapidly; and the old Doctor was in the roo
m, half heart-broken, and hesaw Gordon move his hands together, and he said, 'If any boy knowswhat prayers Gordon minor has been used to say, let him come and saythem by him;' and I did. So I knelt by his bed and said them, the oldDoctor kneeling too and sobbing like a child; and when I had done,Regy moved his lips and said 'Amen;' and then he said 'Lindsay!' andsmiled, and then--"
Master Arthur squeezed his friend's arm tightly, but said nothing, andboth the young men were silent; but Bill could not restrain his tears.It seemed the saddest story he had ever heard, and Mr. Lindsay's handupon his shoulder shook so intolerably whilst he was speaking, that hehad taken it away, which made Bill worse, and he fairly sobbed.
"What are you blubbering about, young 'un?" said Mr. Lindsay. "He isbetter off than any of us, and if you are a good boy you will see himsome day;" and the young gentleman put his hand back again, which wassteady now.
"What became of the other fellow?" said Master Arthur.
"He was taken away, of course. Sent abroad, I believe. It was hushedup. And now you know," added Mr. Lindsay, "why my native indolence hasroused itself to get this cad taught a lesson, which many a time Iwished to GOD when wishes were too late, that that other bully hadbeen taught _in time_. But no one could thrash him; and no one durstcomplain. However, let's change the subject, old fellow! I've got overit long since: though sometimes I think the wish to see Regy againhelps to keep me a decent sort of fellow. But when I saw the likenessthis morning, it startled me; and then to hear the story, it seemedlike a dream--the Gordon affair over again. I suppose rustic nervesare tougher; however, your village blackguard shan't have the chanceof committing murder if we can cure him!"
"I believe you half wanted to undertake the cure yourself," saidMaster Arthur.
Mr. Lindsay laughed.
"I did for a minute. Fancy your father's feelings if I had come homewith a black eye from an encounter with a pot-house bully! You know Iput my foot into a tender secret of your man's, by offering to be theperformer!"
"How?"
Mr. Lindsay lowered his voice, but not so that Bill could not hearwhat he said, and recognize the imitation of John Gardener.
"He said, 'I'd rather do it, if _you_ please, Sir. The fact is, I'mpartial to the young woman myself!' After that, I could but leave Johnto defend his young woman's belongings."
"Gently!" exclaimed Master Arthur. "There is the Yew Walk."
From this moment the conversation was carried on in whispers, toBill's further mystification. The young gentlemen recovered theirspirits, and kept exploding in smothered chuckles of laughter.
"Cold work for him if he's been waiting long!" whispered one.
"Don't know. His head's under cover, remember!" said the other: andthey laughed.
"Bet you sixpence he's been smearing his hand with brimstone for thelast half hour."
"Don't smell him yet, though."
"He'll be a patent aphis-destroyer in the rose-garden for months tocome."
"Sharp work for the eyelids if it gets under the sheet."
They were now close by the Yews, out of which the wind came with apeculiar chill, as if it had been passing through a vault. Mr. BartramLindsay stooped down, and whispered in Bill's ear. "Listen, my lad. Wecan't go down the lane with you, for we want to see the ghost, but wedon't want the ghost to see us. Don't be frightened, but go just asusual. And mind--when you see the white figure, point with your ownarm _towards the Church_, and scream as loud as you like. Can you dothis?"
"Yes, Sir," whispered Bill.
"Then off with you. We shall creep quietly on behind the trees; andyou shan't be hurt, I promise you."
Bill summoned his courage, and plunged into the shadows. What could bethe meaning of Mr. Lindsay's strange orders? Should he ever havecourage to lift his arm towards the church in the face of that awfulapparition of the murdered man? And if he did, would the unquietspirit take the hint, and go back into the grave, which Bill knew wasat that very corner to which he must point? Left alone, his terrorsbegan to return; and he listened eagerly to see if, amid theceaseless soughing of the wind among the long yew branches, he couldhear the rustle of the young men's footsteps as they crept behind. Buthe could distinguish nothing. The hish-wishing of the thin leaves wasso incessant, the wind was so dexterous and tormenting in the tricksit played and the sounds it produced, that the whole place seemedalive with phantom rustlings and footsteps; and Bill felt as if MasterArthur was right, and that there was "no limit" to the number ofghosts!
At last he could see the end of the avenue. There among the few lasttrees was the place where the ghost had appeared. There beyond lay thewhite road, the churchyard corner, and the tall grey tomb-stoneglimmering in the moonlight. A few steps more, and slowly from amongthe yews came the ghost as before, and raised its long white arm. Billdetermined that, if he died for it, he would do as he had been told;and lifting his own hand he pointed towards the tomb-stone, and gave ashout. As he pointed, the ghost turned round, and then--rising frombehind the tomb-stone, and gliding slowly to the edge of the wall,which separated the churchyard from the lower level of the road--thereappeared a sight so awful, that Bill's shout merged into a prolongedscream of terror.
Truly Master Arthur's anticipations of a "scenic effect" were amplyrealized. The walls and buttresses of the old Church stood out darkagainst the sky; the white clouds sailed slowly by the moon, whichreflected itself on the damp grass, and shone upon the flat wettomb-stones till they looked like pieces of water. It was not lessbright upon the upright ones, upon quaint crosses, short headstones,and upon the huge ungainly memorial of the murdered Ephraim Garnett.But _the_ sight on which it shone that night was the figure nowstanding by Ephraim Garnett's grave, and looking over the wall. Anawful figure, of gigantic height, with ghostly white garments clinginground its headless body, and carrying under its left arm the head thatshould have been upon its shoulders. On this there was neither fleshnor hair. It seemed to be a bare skull, with fire gleaming through thehollow eye-sockets and the grinning teeth. The right hand of thefigure was outstretched as if in warning; and from the palms to thetips of the fingers was a mass of lambent flame. When Bill saw thisfearful apparition he screamed with hearty good will; but the noise hemade was nothing to the yell of terror that came from beneath theshroud of the Yew-lane Ghost, who, on catching sight of the rivalspectre, fled wildly up the lane, kicking the white sheet off as hewent, and finally displaying, to Bill's amazement, the form andfeatures of Bully Tom. But this was not all. No sooner had the firstghost started, than the second (not to be behind-hand) jumped nimblyover the wall, and gave chase. But fear had put wings on to BullyTom's feet; and the second ghost being somewhat encumbered by hiscostume, judged it wisdom to stop; and then taking the fiery skull inits flaming hands, shied it with such dexterity, that it hit Bully Tomin the middle of his back, and falling on to the wet ground, went outwith a hiss. This blow was an unexpected shock to the Bully, whothought the ghost must have come up to him with supernatural rapidity,and falling on his knees in the mud, began to roar most lustily:
"Lord, have mercy upon me! I'll never do it no more!"
Mr. Lindsay was not likely to alter his opinion on the subject ofbullies. This one, like others, was a mortal coward. Like other men,who have no fear of GOD before their eyes, he made up for it by havinga very hearty fear of sickness, death, departed souls, and one or twoother things, which the most self-willed sinner knows well enough tobe in the hands of a Power which he cannot see, and does not wish tobelieve in. Bully Tom had spoken the truth when he said that if hethought there was a ghost in Yew-lane he wouldn't go near it. If hehad believed the stories with which he had alarmed poor Bill, thelad's evening walk would never have been disturbed, as far as he wasconcerned. Nothing but his spite against Bessy would have made himtake so much trouble to vex the peace, and stop the schooling, of herpet brother; and as it was, the standing alone by the churchyard atnight was a position so little to his taste, that he had drunk prettyheavily in the public-house for half an hour befor
ehand, to keep uphis spirits. And now he had been paid back in his own coin, and laygrovelling in the mud, and calling profanely on the Lord, Whose mercysuch men always cry for in their trouble, if they never ask it fortheir sins. He was so confused and blinded by drink and fright, thathe did not see the second ghost divest himself of his encumbrances, orknow that it was John Gardener, till that rosy-cheeked worthy, hisclenched hands still flaming with brimstone, danced round him, andshouted scornfully, and with that vehemence of aspiration, in which hewas apt to indulge when excited:
"Get hup, yer great cowardly booby, will yer? So you thought you wascoming hout to frighten a little lad, did ye? And you met with one ofyour hown size, did ye? Now _will_ ye get hup and take it like a man,or shall I give it you as ye lie there?"
Bully Tom chose the least of two evils, and staggering to his feetwith an oath, rushed upon John. But in his present condition he was nomatch for the active little gardener, inspired with just wrath, andthoughts of Bessy; and he then and there received such a soundthrashing as he had not known since he first arrogated the characterof village bully. He was roaring loudly for mercy, and John Gardenerwas giving him a harmless roll in the mud by way of conclusion, whenhe caught sight of the two young gentlemen in the lane--Master Arthurin fits of laughter at the absurd position of the ex-Yew-lane Ghostand Mr. Lindsay standing still and silent, with folded arms, set lips,and the gold eye-glass on his nose. As soon as he saw them, he beganto shout, "Murder! help!" at the top of his voice.
"I see myself," said Master Arthur, driving his hands contemptuouslyinto his pockets--"I see myself helping a great lout who came out tofrighten a child, and can neither defend his own eyes and nose, nortake a licking with a good grace when he deserves it!"
Bully Tom appealed to Mr. Lindsay.
"Yah! yah!" he howled: "will you see a man killed for want of help?"
But the clever young gentleman seemed even less inclined to give hisassistance.
"Killed!" he said contemptuously; "I _have_ seen a lad killed on sucha night as this, by such a piece of bullying! Be thankful you havebeen stopped in time! I wouldn't raise my little finger to save youfrom twice such a thrashing. It has been fairly earned! Give the ghosthis shroud, Gardener, and let him go; and recommend him not to hauntYew-lane in future."
John did so, with a few words of parting advice on his own account.
"Be hoff with you," he said. "Master Lindsay, he speaks like a book.You're a disgrace to your hage and sect, you are! I'd as soon fightwith an old charwoman. Though, bless you, young gentlemen," he added,as Bully Tom slunk off muttering, "he _is_ the biggest blackguard inthe place; and what the Rector'll say, when he comes to know as you'vebeen mingled up with him, passes me."
"He'll forgive us, I dare say," said Master Arthur. "I only wish hecould have seen you emerge from behind that stone! It was a sight fora century! I wonder what the youngster thought of it! Hi, Willie,here, Sir! What did you think of the second ghost?"
Bill had some doubts as to the light in which he ought to regard thatapparition; but he decided on the simple truth.
"I thought it looked very horrid, Sir."
"I should hope it did! The afternoon's work of three able-bodied menhas been marvellously wasted if it didn't. However, I must say youhalloed out loud enough!"
Bill coloured, the more so as Mr. Lindsay was looking hard at him overthe top of his spectacles.
"Don't you feel rather ashamed of all your fright, now you've seen theghosts without their sheets?" inquired the clever young gentleman.
"Yes, Sir," said Bill, hanging his head. "I shall never believe inghosts again, Sir, though."
Mr. Bartram Lindsay took off his glasses, and twiddled them in hisfingers.
"Well, well," he said in a low hurried voice; "I'm not the parson, andI don't pretend to say what you should believe and what you shouldn't.We know precious little as to how much the spirits of the dead see andknow of what they have left behind. But I think you may venture toassure yourself that when a poor soul has passed the waves of thistroublesome world, by whatever means, it doesn't come back kickingabout under a white sheet in dark lanes, to frighten little boys fromgoing to school."
"And that's very true, Sir," said John Gardener, admiringly.
"So it is," said Master Arthur. "I couldn't have explained thatmyself, Willie; but those are my sentiments and I beg you'll attend towhat Mr. Lindsay has told you."
"Yes, Sir," said Bill.
Mr. Lindsay laughed, though not quite merrily, and said--
"I could tell him something more, Arthur, though he's too young tounderstand it: namely, that if he lives, the day will come, when hewould be only too happy if the dead might come back and hold out theirhands to us, anywhere, and for however short a time."
The young gentleman stopped abruptly; and the gardener heaved asympathetic sigh.
"I tell you what it is, Bartram," muttered Master Arthur, "I supposeI'm too young, too, for I've had quite enough of the melancholies forone night. As to you, you're as old as the hills; but it's time youcame home; and if I'd known before what you told me to night, oldfellow, you shouldn't have come out on this expedition. Now, for you,Willie," added the young gentleman, whirling sharply round, "if you'renot a pattern Solomon henceforth, it won't be the fault of yourfriends. And if wisdom doesn't bring you to school after this, I shalltry the argument of the one-legged donkey."
"I don't think I shall miss next time, Sir."
"I hope you won't. Now, John, as you've come so far, you may as wellsee the lad safe home; but don't shake hands with the family in thepresent state of your fists, or you might throw somebody into a fit.Good-night!"
Yew-lane echoed a round of "Good-nights;" and Bill and the gardenerwent off in high spirits. As they crossed the road, Bill looked round,and under the trees saw the young gentlemen strolling back to theRectory, arm in arm. Mr. Bartram Lindsay with his chin high in theair, and Master Arthur vehemently exhorting him on some topic, ofwhich he was pointing the moral with flourishes of the one-leggeddonkey.
* * * * *
For those who like to know "what became of" everybody, these facts areadded:
The young gentlemen got safely home; and Master Arthur gave such acomical account of their adventure, that the Rector laughed too muchto scold them, even if he had wished.
Beauty Bill went up and down Yew-lane on many a moonlight night afterthis one, but he never saw another ghost, or felt any more fears inconnection with Ephraim Garnett. To make matters more entirelycomfortable, however, John kindly took to the custom of walking homewith the lad after night-school was ended. In return for thisattention, Bill's family were apt to ask him in for an hour; and bytheir fire-side he told the story of the two ghosts so often--from themanufacture in the Rectory barn to the final apparition at thecross-roads--that the whole family declare they feel just as if theyhad seen it.
Bessy, under the hands of the cheerful doctor, got quite well, andeventually married. As her cottage boasts the finest window plants inthe village, it is shrewdly surmised that her husband is a gardener.
Bully Tom talked very loudly for some time of "having the law of" therival ghost; but finding, perhaps, that the story did not redound tohis credit, was unwilling to give it further publicity, and changedhis mind.
Winter and summer, day and night, sunshine and moonlight, have passedover the lane and the churchyard, and the wind has had many a ghostlyhowl among the yews, since poor Bill learnt the story of the murder;but he knows now that the true Ephraim Garnett has never been seen onthe cross-roads since a hundred years ago, and will not be till theGreat Day.
In the ditch by the side of Yew-lane shortly after the events I havebeen describing, a little lad found a large turnip, in which someonehad cut eyes, nose, and mouth, and put bits of stick for teeth. Theturnip was hollow, and inside it was fixed a bit of wax candle. Helighted it up, and the effect was so splendid, that he made a show ofit to his companions at the price of a marble each, who were
wellsatisfied. And this was the last of the Yew-lane Ghosts.
Melchior's Dream and Other Tales Page 11
